By the Light of the Moon
by GoldenHorizon
Summary: Captain Jack Sparrow has three loves: the Black Pearl, the Sea, and Rum. During certain scenes in the movie, Jack contemplates how he came to love each one, as well as other situations in his life.
1. Imprisoned in Thoughts

By the Light of the Moon  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters. Much as I would like to, I don't! Life is so unfair...  
  
A/N: Welcome, me hearties! This is a story of everyone's favorite captain, from his point of view. This tells a little about his past, which he is remembering as flashbacks from different parts in the movie. I wrote about Jack's three loves in my other story, "A Corset for a Cutlass" and decided to elaborate them here. I'm trying VERY hard to keep him in character, so I've read his lines in the script about 20 times or more!   
  
A/N #2: I'm listening to the official POTC soundtrack as I'm writing this, which really puts me in the mood. I'm always humming the 2nd song because I just love Jack's entrance in the movie! But I think that really describes his character, and also in song 6 in the middle (that's when they're under the boat). I imagine Jack running through the street, the jumpy cello tune totally describes his walk. Yeah, I know, I picture things when I listen to music. Anyway, go buy the CD!  
  
A/N #3: Last one, I promise! It's so weird, but after I see a movie a few times and find a character I really like, I start to wonder about their past and what makes them the way they are. So this is my interpretation. Hope you like, mateys! I don't know Jack's real age in the movie, and I know Johnny Depp is 40, but I'm making him 35.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Chapter I: Imprisoned in Thoughts  
  
So there I was, the un-catchable Captain Jack Sparrow, leaning against the cold gray concrete wall of a jail cell. I rubbed the back of my head where I had been hit by a glass bottle in the blacksmith forge. Stuck in this cell when I could be out pillaging and plundering and getting my ship back, I thought sadly. I pulled my hat away from my eyes for a moment and watched the prisoners in the cell next to mine trying to coax a flea-bitten dog with a bone. The dog stared at them with blank eyes, obviously not interested.  
  
"You can keep doing that forever," I remarked, "the dog is never going to move." One of the prisoners turned to me and scowled.  
  
"Oh, excuse us if we haven't resigned ourselves to the gallows just yet," he said. I made no reply, but rolled my eyes and pulled the hat over them again. A man's got to have sleep sometime, even a pirate, though preferably in a comfortable feather bed with his arm around a tavern whore. Clothing optional. The dank, gloomy dungeon reminded me of my old home, when I was young. How long had it been? Must have been at least... twenty-five years or so, since I'd last seen the place. It was a very hot summer when I was in my tenth year, and I fell in love that July afternoon. With a maiden who could change from beautiful, to cruel, to benign, in the blink of a kohl-lined eye. Her name was Sea, and she took my heart from the very moment I saw her...  
  
**FLASHBACK**  
  
''Hurry up, boy, we don' have all day!' I barely heard my father, as I was too busy staring out at the amber waves crashing upon the rocks in the harbor. They seemed to make a song, which captivated my attention and left all other matters behind. The Sea was calling to me. The sun was setting far off in the west, and the sky was ablaze with flames of red and gold, reflected in the ocean's shining face. I jumped as a hand grabbed my arm. 'We be going now, Jack!' I turned reluctantly back to my father.  
  
'The ocean, she sings to me,' I said. I was an honest lad, a trait which I've 'more or less' kept throughout the years. My father, a muscular and slightly ponchy man with a balding head, only laughed.  
  
'Tha's nonsense, 'nd I'll be hearin' nothin' else of the sort, understand me?' he said, dropping a heavy barrel into my arms. He collected supplies from the merchant sailors who stopped at the docks, and brought them into town.   
  
'Yes, Father,' I said sadly, and followed him onto the wagon drawn by mules. I gazed behind me as we clattered away over the dirt path. The waves seemed to beckon me back, and I was reluctant to leave my mistress.  
  
We returned home after nearly an hour.  
  
'Now be a good lad and go inside, while I take these to the town,' Father said. I nodded and entered my small three-room cottage. My mother, Esperanza Pearl Rosa Laurence, was out at the market. She was a young woman from Hispaniola, a true beauty who passed her dark hair and amber-brown eyes to me. My father, Edward Laurence, married her when I was a year old, after she birthed me by an unknown man. But since I had known no true father, Edward was the closest to a real one, though he was very rough and sometimes beat my mother and I.  
  
I stepped into our little kitchen, and there, right before my eyes, in my mother's favorite chair, sat a strange woman. She had frizzy red hair and wore too much eyeliner, and the laces of her bodice were practically popping off. A very interesting mental picture, now that I think of it, and I've since kept my taste for redheads...   
  
'Why, 'ello, li'lle boy. Wot's yer name?,' she said. I gasped and ran to my room. Who was that woman, and why was she in my house? I decided to calm myself by pulling out my yellowed parchment and a piece of charcoal from under my tiny bed. Unlike many of the village brats, I knew my letters, thanks to my mother, but the charcoal was not for writing. I closed my eyes and tried to remember, sifting through my mind... With a few strokes the paper was transformed. The harbor became real, regenerated onto the aging parchment. I haven't sketched for years, and I doubt that I'd still have the same ability today, but all the same, it was a way for me to escape my harsh life. Suddenly I heard noises and shoved the sketch back under my bed. I didn't want it to end up in the fire like all my other ones. I crept out of my bedroom and looked around the corner of the wall. My mother was standing there, pointing and shouting at my father, the grocery basket hooked around her arm forgotten.  
  
'Edward, I'll tell you for the last time! You are not to be bringing your wenches to the house anymore, you hear me?!' Of course, to my little boy ears, the word 'wench' was new and not in my vocabulary. How different that is now.   
  
'I'll show you a wench, you wretched Fernandan!' the strange blonde woman screeched, standing behind my father.  
  
'I'm warning you, Edward, I'll take Jack and we'll leave right this instant!' my mother said. She began to walk towards my hiding spot, on her way to my bedroom.   
  
'No you won't!' replied my father, grabbing her arm. She pulled it out of his grip and continued on her way. But he wound an arm around her waist and threw her into the wall. There was a nasty crack, and she didn't move. I was terrified at that moment, and ran to her.  
  
'Mama! I cried, shaking her shoulders, and getting not the slightest response.   
  
'You, boy, what did you see?' said Father. I turned to him, tears streaming down my dirty cheeks.  
  
'You hurt Mama!' I accused him.   
  
'She got was she deserved! I'll teach you not to speak to your father that way!' he shouted angrily, and made a lunge for me. But I was small and quick, and I dashed around him and to the door.  
  
'You're not my father!' I cried. 'I HATE YOU!' And I bolted out the door, ignoring his shouts and various threats. My little legs carried me as fast as they could, and I sobbed as I ran.  
  
**END FLASHBACK**  
  
I was broken from my reverie by a loud blast outside. It sparked my memory, and I barely hoped to believe it.  
  
"I know those guns," I said, more to myself than the other prisoners. I stood up and looked out of the narrow barred window. "It's the Pearl!"  
  
"Black Pearl?" a prisoner asked timidly. "I've heard stories. She's been preying on ships and settlements for near ten years. Never leaves any survivors." I chuckled to myself and turned to him. Some people never think.  
  
"Then where do the stories come from, I wonder?" He had no answer to that. I ducked as a cannonball came whizzing our way. It blew a hole in the cell next to mine, and the thieves and vagabonds began to escape.   
  
"My sympathies, friend," said the same one who had asked about the Pearl, "you've no manner of luck at all." He's probably right, I thought, as I fitted my head in the small hole in the wall of my cell. Maybe Captain Jack Sparrow really is running out of luck. I looked around the dungeon, for any chance of escape. I couldn't stand being stuck in any one place for too long. That's when my eyes landed on the dog bone. Ah, what the heck? Might as well... I reached for it and whistled, banging it on the bars.  
  
"Come on, doggy. It's just you and me now. It's you and ol' Jack, come on," I cooed. Much to my surprise, the dog actually began to inch towards me. "Come on, good boy. That's it, good boy, come on! Bit closer, bit closer. That's it, that's it, doggy. Come on you filthy, slimy, mangy cat." There was a noise from above and the dog skittered away and out of reach. "No, no, no, no, no, I didn't mean it," I pleaded. "I didn't..." But there was another crash, and a guard came rolling down the steps. Two familiar men cam hurrying down. I gritted my teeth. Two members of my old crew.  
  
"This ain't the armory," said the one called Twigg. Oh, brilliant, my friend, you do have brains after all. I was beginning to lose hope for you, I thought sarcastically. That's when they spotted me.   
  
"Well, well, well, look what we have here Twigg - Captain Jack Sparrow," said the other pirate. Never could remember his name. He had a really awful dental job, I remember. Twigg spat at my feet and grinned wickedly.  
  
"Last time I saw you, you were all alone on a godforsaken island, shrinking into the distance. His fortunes aren't improved much." I narrowed my eyes at him. Don't mention that awful bloody island again, I warned mentally.  
  
"Worry about your own fortunes, gentlemen. The deepest circle of Hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers," I said quietly. His companion growled and grabbed at my throat. I pulled back quickly, but could still see his arm in the moonlight. It was bone-white and skeletal. And I mean, really skeletal. As in, no flesh.   
  
"So there is a curse. That's interesting," I remarked. I had heard of the curse on my journeys, but I'd never believed it. Until now.  
  
"You know nothing of Hell," he spat, and they turned and left. I stared after them for a moment. If there really is a curse, I thought, that means Barbossa can't die either. So much for my one shot. I held up the bone still in my hand.  
  
"That's very interesting." 


	2. Like Father, Like Son

Disclaimer: I'm a poor, lonely hermit who lives with her hairless cat in a hut on the beach. Do you really think I own anything?  
  
A/N: I hope you liked the last chapter. That was mostly an introduction to Jack's past. In this chapter we'll meet some interesting new characters, as well as some old ones. Am I keeping Jack in character? Review and tell me!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Chapter II: Like Father, Like Son  
  
The next morning, I had a visitor. I was trying rather unsuccessfully to pick the lock of my cell with that stupid dog's bone, when I heard footsteps. Thinking it was one of the guards, I lay back down and pretended to be asleep.  
  
"You, Sparrow!" I looked up innocently.   
  
"Aye?" The person stepped into the light. It was that boy I had fought (and beaten) in the forge. Darn. I had hoped it would be that pretty lass Elizabeth. Then I could have thrown on my masculine charm and perhaps have had a little fun while I got rescued.  
  
"You are familiar with that ship, the Black Pearl?" Oh, why did everyone have to remind me I no longer owned her? I tried to keep my face casual as I replied, "I've heard of it." No point in telling the lad anything that might get me in even more trouble.  
  
"Where does it make berth?" he asked. I caught myself grinning at his choice of words.  
  
"Where does it make berth? Have you not heard the stories? Captain Barbossa and his crew of miscreants sailed from the dreaded Isla de Muerta. It's an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is," I said, moving my hand to illustrate my point, which is a habit I really can't control.   
  
"The ship's real enough. Therefore its anchorage must be a real place," the boy protested. "Where is it?" I studied my dirty fingernails and replied, "Why ask me?" If he wanted to know so badly, he should find out himself. After all, I am a pirate, right?  
  
"Because you're a pirate." Ah, knew that was coming.   
  
"And you want to turn pirate yourself, is that it?" I actually doubted that. The boy looked as though he wouldn't last a day in that kind of life.  
  
"Never!" Then defeated, he added, "They took Miss Swann." I smiled. Lovely girl. Quite beautiful. Especially when wet. I felt bad for her, though, being loved by a eunuch.  
  
"Oh, so it is that you've found a girl. I see. Well, if you're intending to brave all, hasten to her rescue and so win fair lady's heart you'll have to do it alone, mate. I see no profit in it for me." After all, he had tried to kill me before, so why should I help him?  
  
"I can get you out of here," the lad said, looking up at the bars.   
  
"How's that? The key's run off." I gestured down the stairs where the dog disappeared.   
  
"I helped build these cells. These are half pin-barrel hinges." He picked up a bench lying beside him and placed it against the bottom of the cell door. "With the right leverage and proper application of strength, the door will lift free." I studied him for a moment as he struggled.  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Will Turner," he replied. I knew he seemed familiar. Exactly like his father... It brought back old memories...  
  
**FLASHBACK**  
  
The night I ran away, I slept in an old barn. The next morning I went where my heart led me: the docks. There were sailors doing various things: removing and storing cargo and repairing their sails. I watched them for a while, watched how their muscular arms lifted heavy boxes, and how their sun-tanned, leathery faces broke into rough laughter, showing many gold and silver teeth flashing in the sunlight. Those look really neat, I thought, wondering if they could get rich by pulling them out.  
  
'Hey, boy!' I noticed one of the sailors was talking to me. 'What're ye doing?'  
  
'I-I'm just watching,' I stammered. I have to admit, I was a little afraid of them.   
  
'Wot's yer name?' he asked.  
  
'Jack,' I replied. 'Jack Laurence.'  
  
'Jack, is it? Well, son, why don' ye help us out with these boxes?' I carried the crates from the pier to the dock. When I came back, the sailor seemed impressed.  
  
'You got yerself a father who works ye, lad.'  
  
'I ran away. I'm not going back,' I said. Like I've mentioned, honesty. I wanted everyone to know that fact. The sailor gave me a funny look.  
  
'No? Well, we was just thinkin' we could use a cabin boy. What d'ye say?'  
  
'Really?' I was almost bursting with happiness. Finally I could get off that island and go where my heart desired. 'Aye' was barely out of the man's mouth before I had hopped into their longboat.  
  
'Crikey!' he exclaimed. 'You're as quick as a sparrow!' When we reached the ship anchored a short distance away from the docks, I met the captain. Captain Emery was a big, brown man who wore a red bandanna around his wild gray hair and had a beard fit for eight men. I thought the bandanna looked neat. In fact, I have one of me own to brag about now. Emery also had a half-dozen tattooes covering his muscular arms. I thought those were neat, too. I have some of them, as well. Not a pleasant process to have done, trust me. Though I'm quite fond of the redhead on my bicep. Clothing, erm, optional. To make a long story short, the Cap'n was like my mentor. He wasn't a pirate, but he taught me all I know about sailing today.  
  
'So you're our new cabin boy? Welcome aboard the Cassandra, Jack,' said Emery. 'If ye'll be so kind as ta go below deck you'll find two other boys ta help ye out, savvy?' I liked that word. I tried saying it.  
  
'Sa...sav...savvy?' I said it again, liking the way it sounded on my tongue. Another thing I got from Emery. The crew all laughed, and Emery chuckled, patting me on the back. I went down below like they told me, and found a boy who looked a few years older than me sitting on top of a large keg. He was thin and had dark hair pulled back.  
  
''lo, I'm William Turner,' said the boy, 'but you can call me Bill.' We shook hands, which I knew was the polite way to greet someone. 'How old are you?'  
  
'Ten,' I replied. The boy nodded.  
  
'Ah, you're just starting. I was ten when I became a cabin boy.'   
  
'I ran away,' I stated.   
  
'Oh, what happened?' I didn't have time to answer, however, because I was interrupted by a 'So they have found a new cabin boy' from the darkness behind me. I spun around. There stood a young man, perhaps fifteen years my elder. He had sandy brown hair and and cold gray eyes.  
  
'This here's Thaddeus Barbossa.'  
  
**END FLASHBACK**  
  
Yes, I met both my best friend and my worst enemy on the same day. I didn't know then what that scheming betrayer would do later in my life. I realized Will was staring at me. How long had I been lost in my thoughts?  
  
"That will be short for William, I imagine. Good, strong name. No doubt, named for your father, right?"  
  
"Yes," Will replied.  
  
"Aha. Well, Mr. Turner, I changed me mind. If you spring me from this cell, I swear on pain of death, I shall take you to the Black Pearl and your bonny lass. Do we have an accord?" I stuck my hand out through the bars, and Will took it.  
  
"Agreed," he said.  
  
"Agreed. Get me out." I gestured towards the bench. He pushed it with all his strength, and, much to my surprise, the door lifted free.  
  
"Hurry, someone will have heard that," Will said.  
  
"Not without my effects." I grabbed my worn old blue-gray coat that was hanging on a peg in the wall and my belt, pistol, and compass, then hurried after Turner. The hunt for the Pearl was on. 


	3. One True Love

Disclaimer: "Magic 8 Ball, will I ever own POTC?" Ball: No, never! HA HA HA! "Wait a sec, you're an inanimate object, you can't talk! Stupid thing..."  
  
A/N: Okay, keep me sane and review! I'm skipping a lot of space between this chapter and the last. Jack just woke up from his hit in the head by Will (that seems to happen to him alot) and he's ambling down to the bickering pirates in the cave.  
  
A/N #2: I was watching the Ellen DeGeneres show today (quite funny actually), and I started thinking, What if Johnny Depp had a talk show? I mean, think about it, he'd already have TONS of fans, and from what I've read about him, he seems like a comical guy. Come on, can't you just see him as a talk show host? And there could be a "Jack Sparrow Day" where he acts like Jack and wears the costume the whole show... Ooh, I love this idea. What do you think? Of course, I doubt it will ever happen. :-(  
  
A/N #3: The extension of the "parley" dialogue was an ad-lib between Johnny and Lee Arenberg, who plays Pintel. From the DVD deleted scenes.  
  
And Astrid Tinuvial, please don't kill me! lol  
  
~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Chapter III: One True Love  
  
"You! You're supposed to be dead!" exclaimed the pirate I knew as Pintel, as he spotted me. I can't say I was very worried, I was still dazed from my knock on the noggin, as it were.  
  
"Am I not?" I said stupidly, looking down at myself. "Hmm." I decided that maybe this was not the time to, ah, reacquaint myself with my old crew, so I turned around, only to look down the barrel of a pistol. I faced Pintel again. What was that word, started with a "P"....?  
  
"Puhluley..." I closed my eyes, trying to remember. "Puhlulevoos." C'mon, Jack, it's in the bloody Code! You know the Code! I thought frantically. "Parleli, parsmi, paisley, partner, partner…"  
  
"Parley?" offered a pirate with a wooden eyeball. Forget his name, too. The eye was a new addition.  
  
"Parley! That's the one!" I exclaimed. "Parley! Parley!"  
  
"Parley? Damned to the depths whatever muttonhead thought of parley," grumbled Pintel.  
  
"That would be the French," I pointed out. Another useful piece of information I had come across. "Latin based, of course. Inventors of mayonnaise." I was trying to distract them from shooting me. It worked.  
  
"I like mayonnaise," agreed Pintel.   
  
"Obsessed with raisins. Humiliated grapes, really. Think about it," I said, demonstrating with my hand. "Excellent singers, the French. Eunuchs, all of 'em."  
  
"I dated a eunuch once," said Wooden Eye. Just then the crowd of pirates parted.  
  
"How the blazes did you get off that island?" There he was. It had been ten years. Ten very long years, but here he was. Barbossa. I couldn't help the emotion that came into my voice when I spoke.  
  
"When you marooned me on that godforsaken spit of land you forgot one very important thing, mate, " I said. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow." I was Captain. As in, me, not him!  
  
"Ah, well, I won't be making that mistake again. Gents," he said, turning to the crew, "you all remember Captain Jack Sparrow? Kill him." I found about twenty pistols gladly raised to my face.  
  
"The girl's blood didn't work, did it?" I asked smugly.   
  
"Hold yer fire!" Barbossa shouted. He always had more curiosity than was good for him. "You know whose blood we need?"  
  
"I know whose blood ye need." I wasn't really going to tell him where Will was, but I had to stall for time.  
  
I was led back to the Black Pearl. I hadn't seen her in so long... I glanced around the deck as I walked on, and frowned. Barbossa sure didn't know how to take care of a ship. Poor beauty, I thought sadly, what's happened to you? I ran my hand along her rail, and my mind drifted. I remembered the day I first saw the Pearl, amazing in all her glory...  
  
'Reef those sails, men! Let's move it!' Captain Emery shouted, eight years later. The Cassandra was being tossed about by the rocky waves, and the crew and I were desperately trying to keep her stable. My eighteen-year-old self was much taller and stronger than the ten-year-old who had run away from home. My dark brown hair hadn't seen a good wash in a long while (nor does it much now, except for the occasional swim), my hands were callused and dirty, a mustache was beginning to grow on my upper lip (which I'm quite fond of), and a gold ring was in my ear. A dark crimson bandanna flew around my face in the heavy wind, and I had a few gold and silver teeth to show. I was wearing new clothes: a white button-down cotton shirt open at the collar with sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and dark breeches tattered and spotted. Unfortunately, I still didn't have the hat. My hat...  
  
'Sparrow! Pull those cables tighter!' shouted the Captain. I had earned that nickname from the crew, because they always said I was quick as a sparrow, and as daft. Which I resent. Anyway, the nickname stuck, and I had a nice new tattoo put on my lower arm, of a sparrow in flight above the ocean waves. I encouraged the nickname; it helped me escape my past, in a way. My status had risen to first mate, which I was proud of. I also had a shiny new pistol and cutlass to show for it. Captain Emery had spent hours teaching me how to parry, which I'm thankful now for. I pulled the before-mentioned ropes taut and made my way up to the quarterdeck.  
  
'I think we should reef the canvas, sir!' I shouted to the Cap'n. He shook his head.  
  
'Always remember this, Jack, me lad: when there's a goal in mind ye need to reach, ye NEVER back down, savvy?' was Emery's reply.  
  
'Savvy!' I said. I was turning to descend the stairs to the maindeck when another huge wave crashed into the Cassandra, causing her to almost topple over. I lost my balance and fell, clutching onto the taffrail for dear life. A hand came out of nowhere and pulled me back on.  
  
'You alright, Jack?' It was Bill.   
  
'Aye, mate. What's our status?' I asked him.  
  
'We're takin' on water fast. Help us with the lifeboats!' he said. I looked for Emery and saw him battling with the helm still.  
  
'Come on, Captain! We have to bail!' I told him.  
  
'Another thing, Sparrow. A Captain fights for his ship until the very end, and if he can't right her, he goes down with her to Davy Jones'.' He beckoned me over once more, and pressed something into my hand. 'This can get ye real lucky, boy, if ye know how ta use it. Show no one.' I stuffed it in my shirt and followed Bill to the boats. We jumped in and found ourselves in ten-foot high waves. But in due time, we reached land. The first thing I did was puke into the sand.   
  
'Where are we?' asked one of the men.  
  
'This be Hispaniola, if I'm not mistaken,' Barbossa replied. He somewhat resembled a drowned dog. I imagined I must have looked just as bad. Miraculously, my bandanna was still in place. I remembered the thing that Emery had given me, and I pulled it out. It was a small, dark wooden box. I pulled it open. When the sea water had been all drained out, I got a better look. It was a compass. And it didn't point North.  
  
'Bloody broken compass,' I murmured. How was that supposed to make me lucky? The storm stopped after a while and we found ourselves in a pleasant little village. We saw two uniformed officers walk past, Spanish by the looks of 'em. They didn't even give us a glance. But the residents took pity on us and gave us food and new clothing.  
  
The next morning, Bill and I were walking along the coast.   
  
'Tis a shame,' he said, 'about Cap'n Emery.' I nodded.  
  
'He was a good man.'   
  
'So what do ye think...' I didn't hear the end of his sentence, because I had just found my true love. It was love at first sight, I tell you. There she was, basking gloriously in the sun, her body aglow with light...  
  
'Jack?' Bill stepped next to me and followed my gaze. 'Now there's a ship worth sailing.' I was speechless. Her black sheets were new and fluttering in the breeze, and she drifted on the waves, seeming to lie in wait for the opportune moment to sail off.  
  
'She's mine,' I said.  
  
'She belongs to the Spanish Fleet, I'll reckon. Not a smart thing to try, Jack,' Bill warned.  
  
'Why not?'  
  
'Well, commandeering a ship is tough business in even ordinary circumstances. But a...a ship like that, she'll be near impossible to steal. Ye'll be shot down before ye can even blink.'   
  
'Don't tell me First Mate Sparrow is afraid to commandeer a little ship.' I groaned. Barbossa had joined us. Don't get me wrong, we became close to friends later on, but back then we didn't get along. It should have stayed that way too, otherwise things might have been much simpler.  
  
'Barbossa, how nice of you to join us,' I said, my voice leaded with sarcasm. He chuckled and moved next to me to get a better view of the Pearl.  
  
'I'll warrant she can use a new Captain, eh? I'm willing to take up on the job -'  
  
'I saw her first,' I warned. He held out his hands in mock defeat, sighing.  
  
'Alright, Jack, I know ye aren't going to back down. But you are quite young, don't ye think?'  
  
'I've spent eight years on a ship, mate, I can very well handle her!' I argued.  
  
'Fine. You win. Tell me when we can get off this patch of land.' Bill turned to me when he had left.  
  
'So, Jack? We gonna try it?'  
  
'What d'you think?'  
  
It was midnight by the time we had gathered the crew together.  
  
'This is it, men,' I said. 'Today we are no longer sailors. We are pirates.' They yelled out in agreement and I smiled. 'From now on I shall be CAPTAIN Sparrow, savvy?'  
  
'Aye!' they replied. I turned to Barbossa, who was looking envious.  
  
'Oh, cheer up, mate. You can be my lesser-in-command!' I said enthusiastically. He grunted. The crew and I snuck out to the coastline and and followed it until we could see the Black Pearl. I squinted in the darkness, making out the glint from the brass buttons on the uniforms of the sentries.  
  
'You have a plan, Cap'n?" one of the sailors asked. I held up my finger, thinking for a moment.  
  
'Ya see, that's what makes plans interesting. Making them up as you go along,' I replied. I motioned for the lads to follow me and we climbed up the side of the ship. The two sentries were unprepared.  
  
'Wait!' I ordered, as a man pointed his pistol at the sentries. 'We need their uniforms.' After we had relieved them of their coats and hats, and tied them up, I went around with Bill and cut the ropes.  
  
'Raise the anchor!' I shouted. And then we set sail, leaving the coast of Hispaniola behind. I asked who knew how to navigate a ship, and only Bill and Barbossa did. I pointed at Bill and decided to explore more of the ship. There was no name recorded anywhere, but I decided to think about that later. She was quite a large ship, a galleon, with three masts and a brig, and quite a nice captain's cabin. When I went back to the deck, I found a few of the crew milling about in confusion.  
  
'Does she have a name, sir?' asked one of the younger lads. I thought about it for a moment. Then an image came to my mind, unbidden: flowing dark hair and a bronze face, unmoving and silent... A little boy's sobs and a father in rage...  
  
'The Black... Pearl.' 


	4. Señor Sparrow

A/N: Thank you so much, my lovely reviewers! You guys really inspire me! I got so caught up in some of my other stories that I haven't updated in ages. Don't worry though, I'm still going to work on it. It just might take a little while for each chapter to get posted. There's only so many ideas I can come up with. I made a few corrections in my previous chapters, so you might want to go back and read them.   
  
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Chapter IV: Señor Sparrow  
  
"Jack? Jack!" I was unceremoniously broken out of my reverie by the ear-grating voice of Barbossa. It didn't do well for my reputation to be thought as daft as my name implied. Honestly, who ever thought up that expression? Daft as a sparrow my hat.   
  
"You were saying something, Barbossa?" I said (The 'daft' thing had rather unnerved me). He sat down at his, my, table, and looked at me with beady black eyes.  
  
"That's Captain Barbossa now, Jack. And ye'd do well to listen properly." I chose to ignore the 'Captain' comment. My mind could only focus on one unnerving thing at a time.  
  
"I'm listening."  
  
"You say you know whose blood we need to lift the curse. Might I ask whose?" I smiled. That's where I had him.  
  
"Aye, although, seeing how the last time I saw your ugly face you were in no mood to negotiate, I'm not entirely sure I feel the urge to do so right now. And, also, the last time I told you anything of importance, I would up on a bloody sandbar in the middle of nowhere." Barbossa scowled, but folded his hands in front of him, and suddenly turned business-like.   
  
"Name your terms, Sparrow," he said cordially.   
  
"That's CAPTAIN Sparrow, and I think you know very well which 'terms' I'd like. But since I'm a decent man and feeling in a rather fine mood today, I'll tell you what. I will give you the name of the person whose blood you need… as I drop you off at an uninhabited coast, and you can die knowing that you captured the wrong man. Or, in this case, woman," I said, quite happy with my response.   
  
"So you expect to leave me standing on some beach with nothing but a name and your word it's the one I need and watch you sail away my ship?" I sighed and walked slowly back towards the table.  
  
"No," I corrected. "I expect to leave you standing on some beach with absolutely no name at all, watching me sail away on MY ship and then I'll shout the name back to you. Savvy?"  
  
"But that still leaves us with the problem of me standing on some beach with naught but a name and your word it's the one I need." I thought for a moment, and then the logic in my brain found the correct response to make.  
  
"Of the two of us, I'm the only one who hasn't committed mutiny, therefore my word is the one we'll be trusting," I said, helping myself to a green apple from a bowl on the table. The man had quite an attachment to them, as it were. "Although, I suppose I should be thanking you because, in fact, if you hadn't betrayed me and left me to die, I would have an equal share of that curse same as you." I bit into the apple and savored the juicy taste for a moment. "Funny ol' world, innit?" At that moment, Bo'sun came barging into the cabin. Back when I was Captain, if you didn't knock you'd find yourself with a pistol in your face before you could say 'beejesus.'  
  
"Captain, we're coming up on the Interceptor," Bo'sun said. I hurriedly followed Barbossa out onto the deck. This was not turning out to be a good day. He was looking through his spyglass, and, sure enough, there was the Interceptor of His Majesty's Service. I stepped in front of him, trying to block his view so he couldn't judge their distance.  
  
"I'm having a thought here, Barbossa. What say we run up a flag of truce? I scurry over to the Interceptor and I negotiate the return of your medallion, aye? What say you to that?" He chuckled and gave me one of those You're-so-daft-Jack looks.   
  
"Now you see, Jack , that's exactly the attitude that lost you the Pearl. People are easy to search when they're dead." That's what I had never liked about Barbossa. Always too willing to commit bloodshed. "Take him away." I suddenly felt myself being pulled back down to the brig.  
  
As the cell's door swung closed in my face, I tried to cover my worry by pointing out the excess amount of water that had leaked in. Barbossa had kept my cabin quite neat, but that didn't mean the rest of the ship was. Back when I was Captain, the Pearl was spotless and gleaming. And what was with the black paint they had covered her with? To hide the blood of the less fortunate, I suppose. But anyway, as I looked out of a hole in the side of the ship, I couldn't help remember the last sea battle I was in, although the prime difference was that I wasn't looking out of a shilling-sized hole or locked in the brig. I was standing out on the deck of the newly-obtained Pearl, which was glistening in shades of red and gold under the rising sun, standing at her helm and watching a ship of the Spanish Navy pursue us.   
  
**FLASHBACK**  
  
I tried to remember everything that Captain Emery had ever told me about sailing, and as I gripped the wheel's wood under my hands, I suddenly felt like THIS was where I really belonged. Right here, standing on the quarterdeck, with the wind in my hair and the sunlight reflecting off the clear blue water.   
  
'Don't let them get alongside! I want to see every inch of that canvas!' I shouted. The men started climbing up the masts and unfurling the sails. The flag of the Spanish Navy flapped in the breeze.   
  
'Captain!' shouted a man, coming up onto the quarterdeck. 'This is a sixty-gun ship!'   
  
'Good,' I replied. 'Load them. Search the gunnery for ammunition.' He and a few of the others went down below. Barbossa was yelling at the men climbing the masts, using a great number of threats to try to get them to work faster. Bill was standing behind me at the taffrail, looking back at the Spanish ship. I couldn't worry about whether they were catching up or not. I just had to prepare my crew the best I could and be sure we were ready when the time came to fight.   
  
'Fifty meters!' said Bill. I gripped the wheel harder.   
  
'Men!' I said. 'Grab your weapons. Look for anything that might help us; hand bombs…' Suddenly I heard a bang and felt something whiz past my head. I turned around and saw a Spanish soldier with his musket pointed at me. I ducked down, and my crew did the same. When there was a pause in the Spaniards' shooting, I pulled out my pistol and shot at the ship. I don't know to this day whether I hit anyone or not. I knew they were going very quickly, several knots. It would be hard for them to stop…  
  
'Barbossa!' I shouted suddenly. 'Drop the anchor on the larboard side!'   
  
'What - why?'  
  
'Just do it, mate! Now!' He fumbled for the anchor rope and heaved it over the side of the ship. I prayed for it to catch something. And sure enough, I felt the ship jerk to the left. I let go of the wheel and she whipped around. The Spanish, taken by surprise, went several meters before turning their ship around. I briefly caught a name on the back - La Isabella - before she turned to the side. I saw that her guns were pointed directly at us.   
  
'Fire across the deck!' I ordered. With a loud bang a cannonball flew over the maindeck of the Isabella, causing her crew to run for cover. It was the traditional way for pirates to begin their attack. The Isabella responded by firing back. I ducked beside the wheel as a ball came flying my way. It was too high, and missed the deck by several feet.   
  
I heard the Captain shout something to his crew, his black hair slicked back under a feathered hat. It must have been a boarding order, because I saw the crew return with hooks.   
  
'Pull up the anchor!' I said. My men pulled on the rope, and suddenly the Pearl shot forward, due to the wind that had been filling her sails. We glided past the Isabella without a single shot being fired. I saw the Spanish captain open his mouth to give another order, but suddenly he collapsed as a gun fired. I swung around. Barbossa stood with his pistol out, its barrel smoking.  
  
'What the bloody hell are you doing?!' I shouted.   
  
'We're pirates, aren't we, Jack? So we do as pirates do!' I was furious with him, but too tired to reply. I saw the Isabella pull back as her crew rushed to the Captain's aid. My men were all pleased with themselves for having successfully commandeered a vessel, especially one from the Navy fleet. I looked around the deck of the ship and couldn't help feeling proud. The adrenaline rush, the thrill of excitement, the shock of victory… I could get used to this kind of life. I looked up into the light blue sky, and saw a pelican fly past, its stretched wings haloed by sunlight. 


End file.
